204. Void

Readers of this blog know that I have a poor memory. As is my habit, I must have shared this fact with you a number of times. I hardly worry about poor memory – but on some occasions it creates embarrassing situation for me. Today was one of those days.

Today I started early for office. I had to prepare for a meeting and in the evening I was planning to leave early. Taking advantage of ‘flexi-time’ facility, I took Metro early than my usual time. I had a different crowd around me. Everyday though I do not have conversations with my co-passengers, we do exchange smiles. If someone is in good mood, she would ask me where I was last week and then I share travel experiences with her. Today too, I was taking Metro after a gap of couple of weeks. But as I mentioned, this was not my usual time, so there was no possibility of meeting someone.

I entered Metro and found a vacant seat. The route I take is underground, so there is nothing to watch through the window. As the journey takes hardly 20 minutes, I generally don’t read book in the Metro. I close eyes and just relax – that is what I was planning to do even today.

Suddenly a young woman sitting opposite to me said “Hello” and smiled. I too smiled spontaneously, but I did not reply. I realized that I did not know this woman. I assumed that she must have addressed to some other woman. So, I kept quiet. Smiling to strangers is alright, even I talk to strangers, but today I did not want and so kept quiet.

I noticed that none of the women sitting either to my left or right spoke to that young women. I was curious. Of course, it was happening in an instant – I am take much longer time to write it; even your are taking more time to read it. I was looking at that women but did not respond to her. Suddenly she showed a feeling of insult and stopped smiling. Her eyes showed frustration and anger. She stopped looking at me, and adjusted her earphone for music on mobile handset. It was clear from her body language that she was not comfortable.

By that time, I too wasn’t comfortable. Part of my brain was trying to find out ‘whether I know this woman and if yes, where have we met.’ The more I thought about it, the more I felt that I have met this young woman earlier. In knew her face, her eyes, her voice … I was sure that the women had said “hello” to me and to none else.

So, I wanted to initiate dialogue with her and started looking at her. But now the woman was not at all looking at me. As if the one-two feet distance between us has suddenly become one or two kilometers. For a moment, I thought of leaving my seat, approaching her and talking to her. But I noticed that the woman was completely ignoring me. That created another wave of doubt. Was she really addressing me or someone else?

I kept on staring at the woman and with every passing moment, I was sure that I knew this girl. She must have been aware of my gaze, because next moment she looked at me. I was fully ready for that moment, and I asked, “Do you everyday catch the same Metro?”

She nodded – indicating ‘no’. I said, “I am surprised that we have never met on the Metro.”

Now she was completely relaxed and gave a big smile. I said again, “How is it that we have never met on the Metro? I travel everyday around the same time.”

She explained about car servicing and said, “Are you coming to Chanakypuri office today? We have to gate down at Race Course station.”

Listening to her, it dawned upon me that this young woman was none else but Shehanaz.

I was ashamed of myself.

I know Shehanaz for more than a year now; I have met her at least 25 times during the year. At for hundred times I had tele-conversations with her. She is receptionist –cum –telephone operator in one of my offices.

/

Shehanaz is a good natured woman. She is efficient and proactive. Her work is always of a good quality. She has offered me help on many occasions. Whenever I visit Chanakypuri office, Shehanaz is always kind to me. She always asks about my wellbeing, offers me coffee and helps me to sort out my work in that office. What I have observed that Shehanaz is good with everybody around. She is a kind soul. I have a very good opinion about Shehanaz and I have written good words about her to her seniors.

I speak to Shehanaz. We hardly get five minutes. Shehanaz is now in good spirit and she is smiling. Metro arrives at Race Course. Shehanaz gets down. Doors close. Shehanaz moves away but turns back and smiles at me, waves her hand. I too smile and wave back.

However, I am engrossed in thought. Why did not I recognize Shehanaz immediately? If I meet someone after a long gap or someone whom I hardly know and like – I can understand poor memory. But I like Shehanaz and I keep on meeting her regularly – still I failed to recognize her.

It is possible that as I had never met Shehanaz on the Metro, I least expected her to meet here. Well, if I was surprised, it would have been natural – but I failed to recognize her cannot be justified in any manner. Generally we picture people in a given set up – it is hard to recognize postman in civil dress and without postbag; or a vegetable vendor at a movie theater. So, maybe meeting Shehanaz here was not at all expected by me.

Am I equating human being with his/her work? Am I looking at them as machines and not as human beings? Am I too selfish or insensitive to existence of others? Am I always lost in my own world? Am I getting disconnected from the reality around me?

Life has its own speed. There are always new happenings in life, so the old ones are easily left behind. But is it just a game for me – to replace old memories by new? Am I looking at life as a game? What will it lead to me? Until I get old, new persons, incidents, memories will keep on entering into my life – so I can afford to forget the past – persons, incidents, memories and what not. Because I am still active, my senses are working alright, I can play this game; as if it the only one of any significance.

What will happen if I get long life? By law of nature, my senses will become weak; a time will come when nothing new would be added to my life. When the inflow of new persons, incidents, memories etc. stops (and it will stop one day); what will I remember? By that time past will be dead and there will be hardly exciting ‘present’. If I remember something from the past, will that past have any place for me? Will those people, incidents, memories of the past mean anything to me? Will there be only a vacuum – where there will be no past and there will be no present. What will I do then? With the Mind, with the Body and with the Ego?  

Will I be able to live happily in that void? 

**

181. Categories

When I am getting out of Delhi Metro Station(s), I am interested in observing people's choice(s).

There are three choices - to take a lift, an escalator or staircase. Obviously, this is before or after Metro travel!

It is understood that those people who are either ill, very old or having luggage should use the lift. 

Rest of the commuters have two options - staircase and escalator. Most of the Metro Stations do not have the facility of escalators for climbing down - they are only for climbing up. So, I am mainly discussing the tendencies exhibited during Upward Mobility! 

Every time I see some people rushing to lift. Even for climbing down they want to use the lift. They are not always old or ill or do not carry luggage. However, they are obsessed with 'saving time' and always want to take the fastest route. I put these people in category one. Sometimes I wonder whether these people know only one way of living, I doubt whether they are flexible and I wonder how they would respond to life without electricity. 

There are some people who would always take staircase. " Use Stairs to Stay Fit" declares Delhi Metro. Some people do take this opportunity to exercise a bit and stay fit. They are least affected physically as well as psychologically, when the escalator is not working. They are determined and they carry on with their mission without bothering about the external situation. I am not sure how many staircases they climb up every day. These are category two people for me. They are health conscious and certainly they can adjust to the situation in a much better way than the category one people. But in a way, they are like category one people! They also have a fixed way of thinking - only staircase!! 

The third category of people always try to use escalators. They are kind of people who use technology (or luxury) when available. But if the escalator is not working, they would calmly climb up the staircase. They would say : alright, once in a while it is good.  These people have choices and initially they try to make easy choices. However, if easy choice is not available, they do not mind the hard way. They could be easily mixed into category one and category two - it is hard to identify at a glance.

Fourth category is more spontaneous. Depending on their mood or situation, they decide what to choose. Sometimes they would just run on the staircase and some other time they would lazily wait for the lift. They don't have any fixed route - they enjoy the variety and for them the variety comes from within.  I am a regular Metro traveler for two years and know some of the faces who sometimes take escalator and sometimes staircase. I like their unpredictable ways of choosing options. Wherever they go, I am sure these people would always create fun for themselves - by being flexible.

And I know there are many more categories.

One category who observes, thinks, shares.
Another category who never bothers.
Another one who does not like being categorized like this.

We belong to either of these categories - maybe we are in different categories for different things in life. But certainly our behaviors create pattern giving glimpses into inner mind.
Of course, sometimes we could be fooled , we could be completely wrong.
However, the process of categorization keeps on happening.
With knowledge or without knowledge.

How much of it is conditioning and how much of it is choice?
I do not know. 

105. Sejal’s World

I wish I could borrow Sejal’s innocence.
I wish, like Sejal I could trust all.
I wish, like Sejal I could see the hollowness of the ‘beware of’ announcements.
I wish, like Sejal I could instantly be connected with everyone around.

Alas! I know Sejal is not only that – not that I know her thoroughly. Sejal might have her fears and her worries. Sejal might have her moments of broken promises and lost trust. Sejal might have been ignored and dumped. I have lived enough to understand the ups and downs of human life. I know that every human being that we come across is a package – we cannot choose only what we like in him/her and throw away rest of it merrily. Life would have been too easy then. We have to accept people as they are – in the process live with what we do not want and do not like.
But is it the outcome of situation or of paradigm?

I can see the question coming from all of you.
Who is this Sejal I am referring to?

Frankly speaking, I do not know much about Sejal. I may never meet her again. However the impression she created on my mind will remain for a long time.

I was traveling from Patel Chowk to Hauz Khas by the prestigious and comfortable Metro. It is an enjoyable journey. Especially with a coach reserved for women makes it more comfortable even though I have to stand for 20 minutes.

At Central Secretariat Station a mother and a four year child climbed in. The child was screaming for something. The mother was looking at the child but clearly she was not listening. Her mind was somewhere else. She seemed to be in trouble. Generally children know it very well. Within seconds I realized that the child was seeking attention of the mother not for herself, but that was the strategy of the child to draw mother out of her troublesome feelings and thoughts. But the child was not getting much success and hence she was becoming more vocal.

Other women passengers instantly understood the predicament of the mother and the young child. They tried to help. Someone asked the child her name, she refused to answer. Some other woman asked the child where she was getting down, the child refused to answer. Someone asked the child whether she liked metro, the child refused to answer. The mother was standing stone faced, the child was screaming and everyone around was helpless.

Suddenly the mother spoke, “Listen, there is some announcement.”
The child was so happy that her mother spoke to her, and her face illuminated. She smiled, her eyes fully shining.

It was a coincidence that the announcer was saying, “Be aware of strangers, and don’t be friendly with them” – not exactly in these words but conveying the same meaning.

The child was excited. “Ma, where do strangers live? I want to see a stranger.”
That was very unusual demand and the mother looked helpless.
To help the mother, one woman said, “Look, I am a stranger”
Everyone around was relieved and looked thankfully to that woman for intervention.
The child gave a piercing look to that woman. She touched the right hand of that woman as if to asses whether she was real. Then the child announced the judgment: “You are aunty. You are not a stranger.”

We all were struck by the simple answer.
“But I do not know your name. You do not know my name. So, we are strangers,” the woman was quite determined and was not giving up easily.

The child felt rather insulted at this. “My name is Sejal, I am not a stranger. You are an aunty, you are not a stranger.”

Sejal looked around. She said, “She is an aunty, she is also an aunty, and there is another aunty and the one reading a book is also an aunty. Here are all aunties. No strangers.”

I wish I could be like Sejal when dealing with the world. I wish I could trust everyone around and I wish I could establish an instant relationship with everyone around.

I wish at least Sejal could do it even when she grows. Sejal has her own world, let her continue exploring the world in her own way.
Whether our system will allow that freedom to Sejal is the question.
Whether Sejal will be able to face the world alone is the question.
Whether Sejal would be happy is the question.

If Sejal can do that, even if she is alone in her world, that does not matter.
Let it be Sejal’s world.